


Of One Mind

by CCNSurvivor



Series: Hecate Prompts [2]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Reading, Pining, Telepathy, Tumblr Prompt, bed sharing, compliments, courting, magical accident, walks together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-03-31 18:52:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13981215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CCNSurvivor/pseuds/CCNSurvivor
Summary: Pippa Pentangle gets involved in an incident at Cackle's that may have far-reaching consequences for her relationship with one Hecate Hardbroom.Tumblr Prompt: Somehow, one of them drink a potion and is able to hear the thoughts of people after that.





	1. Risky

Prologue:

 

Pippa Pentangle had manoeuvred herself into a rare spot of bother that Thursday afternoon when she was about to depart for Cackle’s Academy. It would have been tempting to blame the tall, dark-haired witch for this situation she found herself in, but that would hardly have been fair. Hecate didn’t even have an inkling about her impending visit. Though yes, this was about her – she rolled her eyes at her reflection in the mirror - it had always been about her.

Nearly half a year had passed since fate had brought her to Cackle’s the first time and back into the arms of who had once been her friend. Not that the welcome had been friendly. No, battle lines had been firmly drawn, unshakeable even by the turning of the years or the ticking of time. They remained etched into their interactions, skin-deep like scars. Whatever she had done in school that had made Hecate abandon her at the worst possible moment was not forgiven and forgotten. Not until they had finally talked, thanks to the help of one determined little girl.

 _Perhaps we ought to be stuck together in a broom closet again_ , Pippa thought to herself while pursing her mouth to apply her lipstick.

It felt as though they had done more talking then than in the time that had passed in the meantime. Oh, there had been mirror calls every now and again, but only as long as Pippa pursued them. And even then it had been dreadfully difficult to coax anything out of Hecate who often remained quiet, always listening, her heart in her eyes. Mirror calls had their limitations, Pippa had learned. They meant choosing one’s words carefully so the other would not slip away. The meant navigating around pleasantries and chit chat without the presence of magic or energy to act as a guide to the other’s internal state. They meant not being able to reach out and touch.

Pippa sighed heavily and gave her appearance a haphazard inspection. But no amount of pink lipstick, of eye liner, mascara or rouge could make the fear in her stomach disappear. They could only offer her that air of confidence that she sometimes wore like others might armour.

“Puck, darling, I know you’ve escaped again!” she called when her eyes landed on the empty cage on her desk. “Now is not the time for mischief. I really can’t be late.”

She was met by silence in return and finally, the tiniest hoot. Turning sharply, ponytail hitting her between her shoulder blades, she spotted her owl in the furthest corner of her bookcase. Its orange eyes grew large and wide as if sensing trouble and its white soft plumage puffed out in response.

“Don’t make me collect you.”

Collecting Puck meant collecting him by magical force and he was as opposed to that as Pippa was to forced transference spells. She decided to give him another two minutes. Him and maybe herself too.

She still couldn’t believe that she had manoeuvred herself into this mess. But finally, with their mirror calls leading nowhere and Hecate growing ever more elusive, she’d seen no other option. If she wanted to reconnect with her, she would have to visit Cackle’s herself. Warning Hecate in advance, however, had seemed a less than smart move. She might use the opportunity to flee or avoid her…

Merlin, why was she feeling so frightened?

The answer was simple, but regrettably just as simple in its painfulness: Hecate Hardbroom was and had always been the witchiest witch. Sure, there had been others in her life, in the period of silence that spanned nearly three decades, but they had never even scratched the surface of the feelings she had for her. She would not have erased them from her life, for they had been good in their own right, enjoyable even, just lacking that extra spark that had been ignited so long ago. Sometimes, trying out different broomsticks just wasn’t the right thing.

“Puck, last warning!” Pippa called now, dragging herself back to the present. There was no more time to be wasted.

With another tiny hoot, the white owl propelled itself forward, fluttering once around the room before sinking despondently down into its cage.

“Don’t worry, little one, Mirabelle will be there to let you stretch your wings at your usual times. And I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Locking the cage, she stretched her fingers through the bars to scratch her familiar tenderly. Then she summoned cloak and hat and set off on her broomstick. All the way to Cackle’s, the wind bouncing her about like a ragdoll which did little to improve the feeling in her stomach. Neither did the prospect of facing Ada Cackle to discuss the possibility of teaching some modern witching workshops in the upcoming year. Because instead of telling the truth and making this a social visit, she had come up with this desperate excuse.

It wasn’t entirely far-fetched. After all, Pentangle’s was known for its focus on equality between witches and wizards and modernising the code. But that didn’t mean that she had prepared any kind of presentation for Ada. Not even now that she was halfway to the castle. Her mind was still too preoccupied with Hecate and how she could mend their ties for good. Hoping, always hoping.

_“I’ve missed you too, Pipsqueak.”_

Carrying her voice in her heart like a torch to light up the darkness. Because there had been honesty, relief and pain and…and…blast it all, hope!

Cackle’s Academy looked beautiful in summer, surrounded as it was by a sea of lush emerald woods. The greenhouse, too, appeared to be bursting at the seams with all the plants and flowers, and Pippa couldn’t help but smile as she passed, wondering if Hecate was to thank for that. The castle grounds were deserted, safe for some stray cats and Pippa encountered no one along the way to the headmistress’s office which was a shame, she could have used the distraction.

What helped in the end was Ada Cackle’s warmth and welcoming nature, not to mention a nice cup of tea and some cream cakes. All the knowledge she did possess on the matter of modern witchcraft came spurting out with a smile and confidence, if also not as structured as she would have liked.

Ada listened patiently and with genuine interest and they decided to reconvene once she had spoken to the rest of Cackle’s teaching staff.

“I hope you are enjoying the summer break,” Pippa said when it was time to rise again.

“I do, but it does get terribly lonely at times. I much prefer the castle with all the girls in it. They bring it to life like no charm or spell could ever hope to do. Of course, there are those few unfortunate ones, forced to take extra classes, who would beg to differ.”

“Oh?” She paused by the door. “I wasn’t aware that Cackle’s opened its gates in summer.”

“Well, it was one of my better ideas. Work doesn’t stop for most parents and they are more than happy to leave the girls with us for a few weeks. And some of them really benefit from learning in quieter, smaller groups with a focus on their individual areas of difficulty. It’s an excellent outcome for both sides.”

“I can see why,” Pippa agreed, touching her hand to her forehead by means of farewell. “But now I really must be off. I’ve wasted too much of your time already.”

“What nonsense!” Ada chuckled and squeezed her arm. “You are always welcome at Cackle’s.”

Leaving with a smile, Pippa was halfway down the corridor when she remembered what had really brought her here. Hecate. To meet face to face, to talk, to mend. Well, she could forget that now if there were classes being taught. Trying to pry Hecate away from her work would only make matters worse.

Still, it couldn’t hurt to sneak down to the potion’s lab for a peek. A glimpse of dark hair, of long lashes or hazel eyes to quench some of her longing, to take home with her to Pentangle’s where the silence between them would continue to stretch on.

No, she couldn’t allow herself to think like that.

 _A witch makes things go her way,_ she reminded herself, and squaring her shoulders transferred from one spot to the next where Hecate’s voice held her arrested.

“Focus, girls, or there will be no break this afternoon!” A part of her wanted to roll her eyes at the unnecessary and empty threat, the other part wanted to chuckle in amusement.

One foot in front of the other, she tiptoed forward until she could peer into the classroom. Hecate was standing with her back to her, her palms pushed down upon a table. Her long fingers never stilled, however, tapping away restlessly on the wood that bore her abuse without complaint. A smile blossomed on Pippa’s face as she took her in, all understated elegance and rigid grace.

“Oh, Miss Pentangle, I did not know you were visiting!”

It all happened so fast.

The silence she’d yearned to break, shattered dreadfully in the blink of an eye. Completely wrong, not like she had intended.

Pippa could just spot Hecate whirling around to face her, knocking something from the desk into the cauldron beyond. A smile was all she could give to poor Rowan-Webb who had meant no harm, before instinct compelled her to act.

“Hecate, I’m sorry to interrupt,” she began, but the bubbles were already growing, spilling over the edge of the cauldron. “Oh Merlin, watch out!”

Magic brought it forward into her hands but before she had the chance to transfer out into the grounds, steam billowed up into her face. Heat singed her skin and for a second her world erupted into flames. Colours swirled before her closed lids and she was stumbling, falling until somebody caught her. Then everything went black.

When Pippa came to again, her ears were met by silence. No…sounds. Faint sounds in the distance. Like a whisper of something.

She tried opening her eyes, felt something restricting her forehead. Slick and firm and utterly unyielding. Cool too. But not enough against the warmth rippling from her face in waves.

Slowly, dreadfully slowly Hecate’s hazel eyes swam into view, and the corners of her mouth automatically twitched upwards.

“Don’t move. Just tell me how you feel.”

Cool, assessing, collected Hecate. But her eyes, shimmering like the sea. Restless, unsteady.

“I…I’m…”

Pippa tried to collect her thoughts, to limit the damage she had done. But she couldn’t think…not when…

_Merlin, this is all my fault. One slip of focus. I’ll never forgive myself._

Pippa frowned, words dying on her lips. These thoughts, they weren’t her own. In fact, they sounded deceptively like…Hecate? But that couldn’t be right. Surely it couldn’t be. How and why could she be able to hear what Hecate was thinking?


	2. Tentative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pippa is trying to get to grips with her new ability while Hecate looks after her. Tw: self-loathing.

Chapter 1:

 

Her head was throbbing when Pippa awoke next. It only occurred to her then that she must have blacked out once more after realising…well, it seemed so unlikely now, it couldn’t have possibly been true. Telepathy was frowned upon, even in the magical world and rightly so. It was considered an intrusion into the privacy of others. A prank in bad taste at best.

Pippa tried shifting into a more comfortable position on the bed but the pain that cracked through her skull held her arrested. Apart from the squeaking of the mattress, there was only silence. No voices, no footsteps. Just the wind outside rattling at the windows. Carefully, she opened her eyes, lids heavy and uncompliant. Darkness dominated the space around her, save for one circle of light, coming from a candle that floated in the air. And with a pang of guilt she realised she was not alone. Hecate had drawn up a chair by her side, no doubt to keep watch should her symptoms grow worse.

How long had she been sitting there? How long had Pippa been gone?

Hecate was asleep now, her head tipped back at an awkward angle that would cause her great discomfort come morning. She did not appear to have moved much, not even to exchange her dress for the comfort of something else, but at least she looked peaceful enough. For now. Pippa watched her chest as it rose and fell, feeling such bitter longing that her stomach clenched in response. She was beautiful, she thought, and things were complicated.

Pippa made to awaken her – she really oughtn’t to be sleeping here – when she spotted her hand resting on the mattress, not an inch away from her own. Fingers outstretched daringly, but still there was a gap between them, as fine as a hairline fracture. Pippa swallowed, years of sorrow bravely shouldered threatening to break out. Then her eyes fell on Hecate’s chest once more, on her face that was slack and calm, and somehow she managed to breathe. Breathe along with Hecate until the only ache that remained was the throbbing in her head.

With curious fingers Pippa reached up and felt a few loose strands of hair flopping over the coarser fabric of a bandage. A cooling charm had been applied to it and as her fingers ventured lower, she could see why. Her skin was still burning up.

“Pippa!”

The startled whisper nearly made her jerk around, but thankfully she caught herself at the very last moment. Dazed hazel eyes found her own while Hecate clambered clumsily to sit up straight again.

_Her face is still too red. It should have worked by now._ Her voice resounded in her head, clear as a bell, and yet her lips hadn’t moved.

A shiver passed through Pippa’s body, because it didn’t feel right. And yet… _and yet_ she could not bring herself to speak up. Hecate would only attribute it to her head trauma, she thought. She was lying to herself. Because she was hoping, always hoping.

“No need to look so worried,” she said instead, smiling brightly. “I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Lips pursed, Hecate sucked in air and then leaned in closely to examine her face. The motion brought forth a scent of thyme and trees, something earthy and solid she’d always associated with her. It was so familiar that her eyes drifted shut, her lashes fluttering when Hecate pressed a cool hand to her cheek. She was composed in her ministrations, quietly assessing. Not rough but not affectionate either. Each action simple and considered.

_No lingering burns. But still too hot._

Blindly, Pippa fumbled to place her hand on top of Hecate’s. Warm and cold melting together.

“I’m fine, really. Please don’t worry.”

She opened her eyes slowly and found Hecate’s face far closer than she had anticipated. A whole array of emotions clouded her expression and drew her slender brows together from time to time. No word slipped past her lips, no thoughts were formed.

“This is not your fault, Hecate. It’s no-one’s really. It was just a…a chain of unfortunate events. If anything, it was me who made the decision to grab the cauldron.”

She offered a smile that faltered when it remained unreturned.

“Perhaps,” Hecate replied at long last, “but my hasty actions caused the vial to drop into the cauldron which created this whole…mess.”

_A witch without control is a danger to her environment._ _But then Pippa’s always had that effect on-_

The thought vanished as quickly as it had come, suffocated, strangled, subdued. Cut off before it could see the light of day. This single act spoke more of the violence Hecate had experienced in her life and of the strict limitations she set herself every day than anything else Pippa had ever witnessed. It saddened her, because she knew that there was no magic strong enough to undo the damage. Instead, she clasped her hand more tightly.

“You startled, Hecate, it was a human reaction. Merlin knows I would have done the same.”

Memories of their school days resurfaced, hours spent pouring over portraits or homework assignments, nearly erased by jumping out of her skin when there was a knock on the door, or Hecate’s voice calling out to her.

“Still, I must consider the consequences had you not…” Her voice trailed off and carefully, she began to pull back her hand. Pippa did not stop her and lowered her own to the mattress.

“Of course you must,” she answered, a gently teasing tone to her voice that provoked little but a slight twitch of the lips. Because if there was one thing that Hecate always did it was considering the consequences. “But you must also let it go, Hiccup. The girls are safe, I made my own choices, and I will recover. End of story.”

She spoke with a firmness that signalled the finality of their discussion but without any anger or frustration. Because she knew how Hecate might have turned that against herself.

The silence that followed, however, was a painful reminder of what had originally motivated her to come. It was all oh so difficult, and even her newly acquired mind reading abilities could do little to fix it. In her thoughts, Hecate was still considering the different outcomes of one clumsy action, scolding herself, berating herself. And Pippa could not stop her, was privy but also helpless to this cycle of self-hatred.

“How late is it?” she asked, grateful when Hecate looked back up and at her. The thoughts ceased for a blissful moment and Pippa felt she could breathe again.

Hecate’s long fingers fumbled with the watch around her neck. “Nearly 3 in the morning. You really ought to rest, Pippa.”

Ah, the strict tone had returned.

“I will if you will,” she replied stubbornly. “How long have you been sitting here for, mmh?”

A guilty glance at the watch this time. _Merlin, I forgot about making the rounds. I hope Ada did. At least there’s fewer girls now._

So much on her plate, Pippa thought, she might as well be running the school. Because as headmistress of Pentangle’s she knew all about the endless list of tasks, the constant niggling feeling that one had forgotten to do something. The far-reaching consequences.

She sighed, then startled into an upright sitting position. In silence, Hecate hands shot to her face, steadying her head which was a small blessing as the motion made her skull hurt in a way that nearly induced vertigo.

“I completely forgot about Pentangle’s. I was meant to be back hours ago!”

True, there were no students to look after, only a little owl that would go crazy if unsupervised. But there were other chores still, jobs she reserved for the summer vacation and a deputy head who deserved to know what had happened.

“I…took the liberty of mirroring Pentangle’s. I assumed that you had left someone in charge in your absence.”

Pippa smiled, then sobered again when Hecate’s expression remained blank. Was she afraid of being chastised, she wondered? For making a decision without her consent?

She had just opened her mouth to speak when a thought penetrated her conscience.

_Of course, I did not expect it to be Mirabelle Mayfair._

She sounded tense, maybe angry. Underneath the bandage, Pippa’s eyebrows struggled to pull into a frown.

“I assume you spoke to Mirabelle then?” she asked as nonchalantly as possible and found the same emotions on Hecate’s face which shifted and contorted as though she was attempting to contain something particularly nasty.

“Yes.” Gravelly and low. Her thoughts weren’t any more forthcoming.

Closing her eyes, Pippa wished for more clarity so that she could process what was happening. Because she just couldn’t understand. Mirabelle had been part of their coven in school and might have, therefore, served as an unwelcome reminder of days gone by. But beyond that, Pippa could not see how Mirabelle with her kind and unassuming nature could have upset anyone.

“She is deputy headmistress.”

_Of course, they were always close._

Head swimming, Pippa tried desperately to focus.

“Hecate?” Her name came out in a soft rush of air, gentle, pleading, almost intimate. “It’s really late and I want you to rest, because I know you’ll be up soon to join everyone at breakfast and to teach. And this chair just won’t do. You’ll have a kink in your neck all day.”

“Your bandage needs refreshing, and I’d like to try out a new ointment. For your cheeks. They haven’t improved much.”

It only occurred to her then that she might carry long-lasting scars from this little incident. But it was doubtful, Hecate’s magic would have prevented the worst. She’d always trusted her implicitly.

“Alright, but only because I know I cannot stop you. But afterwards it is off to bed with you, Miss Hardbroom.”

She chuckled, amused but also tired. Could almost feel Hecate’s smile on her skin.

Cool fingertips ghosted over her face, removing the bandage, assessing the damage beyond. Hecate’s magic was palpable, grazing forehead, scalp and cheeks. Tentative, caring, restrained.

Warmth blossomed in her stomach like comfort. Because there was no-one gentler in their ministrations than Hecate. Dear Hecate who knew too well the destructive, intrusive powers of touch.

“You know there was a time once when I wondered if we couldn’t make a team. At Pentangle’s, I mean. Your expertise and wisdom would have been a great addition to the school.” Movements halted, a sharp intake of breath near her ear. “And I know that you have the kindest heart as well. Cackle’s is lucky to have you.”

Fingertips moving over her cheek now, cool still but slick, coated in some kind of cream. The scent of flowers in her nose, heavy but not unpleasant. Calendula, excellent against burns.

_Too kind, too open. It’s good that nobody else knows._

It’s not good, Pippa thought to herself. But then it hardly mattered, because Hecate was wrong. There were plenty of people who’d recognised that a caring heart was beating beyond that cold exterior. If only she herself could see…

A rush of magic. Then her head was cradled with great care, the bandage re-applied. Nice and cooling. Still, she yearned for the touch of her fingers.

“I’ve missed you, Hecate. I miss you still.”

A confession that could only exist in the depth of night. Or the privacy of a broom closet. A fragile construct, struggling to stand in the face of adversity. A bit like hope. A bit like saying “I love you”.

Darkness tugged at her once more, warm and soothing. A hand slipped into her own. A squeeze. A promise.

“Goodnight, Pippa.”

_I miss you too._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- hooooo did I struggle with this chapter. I was all set when it occurred to me that Hecate would probably also restrain her   
>  own thoughts and suddenly this became a whole lot harder. I hope it ended up sounding alright? You'll be the judge of   
>  that.  
> \- your reviews are just crazy. Thank you all <3  
> \- phrases in italics are Hecate's thoughts  
> \- Hecate and Pippa didn't really talk in a broom closet in Spelling Bee, did they? I don't know why I keep calling it that -   
>  probably because of Pippa's broom  
> \- And yes, Hecate is jealous


	3. Desperate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Pippa tries to find a solution to her problem, she comes across some unexpected realisations.

Chapter 2:

 

 

Night slipped into morning but Pippa continued to sleep, oblivious for once to the passing of time. When her body finally stirred and she became aware of her surroundings once more, she could not say how late it was. But if she craned her neck – which she couldn’t do for long – she could see how high the sun had risen and how it sought with all its strength to pierce even the thickest layer of clouds.

Hecate was nowhere in sight which relieved and disappointed her in equal measure. It meant she had proceeded with her day which, Pippa hoped, had included some sleep and breakfast, but it was also a shame to be missing her company. She stared at her chair, pictured her in it. Instantly drifted further in her mind, to her hands on her skin, her eyes…

Perhaps it was good that she’d been given the time to collect her thoughts. This couldn’t last indefinitely, this state of telepathy. Something had to be done or she’d be forced to tell Hecate the truth. And she didn’t want to. No, she was frightened to do so. Because it had already carried on for too long.

She’d had exactly one second to tell Hecate the truth - when she had asked her how she felt and she had heard her thoughts for the first time. But she’d let the moment pass and now if she spoke up, Hecate would undoubtedly distance herself. Mortified by her thoughts, not realising how much she censored herself even then, or struck by betrayal that Pippa hadn’t said a thing. So she’d have to find a solution herself. Somewhere in the great library books of Cackle’s there had to be an answer.

Determination propelled her upright but dizziness bade her to pause. So she remained for a minute between bed and chair, steadying herself until the room stopped spinning. And when her vision cleared she caught her own reflection in the mirror. There was no scarring on her face, just the redness she’d heard Hecate mention. Her cheeks were swollen and angry, her eyes tired. The rings under them more pronounced somehow. She lifted a hand to her skin and felt, the contact leaving a stinging pain in its wake she had not anticipated. Because Hecate’s touch hadn’t hurt. On the contrary.

Muttering to herself, Pippa performed a simple shower spell which left far more traces on the ground than usual. Her hair – she ran her fingers through it, winced when they encountered knots along the way – well, her hair would have to remain an uncombed mess above the bandage. She could do little with it now without aggravating the injury.

On wobbly legs, she proceeded towards the door at last.  

“Stay in bed. Rest!” A note greeted her, penned in Hecate’s neat but spiky handwriting.

Pippa chuckled then paused, her fingers briefly dancing over the letters. With renewed determination they gripped the note and tucked it away. One firm reminder of Hecate’s concern and care to be stored for darker moments. It was a shame, really, that she’d have to ignore her instructions.

Cackle’s was eerily quiet without its usual gaggle of girls frequenting the corridors. It seemed a maze to Pippa who struggled to navigate it with the same confidence as Pentangle’s. Many corridors looked entirely the same and she lost all sense of time until she finally came across the assembly hall from where she could remember a path to the library.

The smell of books was comforting to her, had always been. They reminded her of hours tucked away with Hecate, researching essays topics or getting lost in the stories of old. They reminded her of finding her feet, discovering her own brand of magic and helping Hecate come to terms with her powers that exceeded those of other witches their age. Books held answers, however archaic - because no matter what “The Magic of Love” stipulated to be normal romantic feelings between a witch and a wizard, those were most definitely the same feelings she had for Hecate. Hopefully books would offer her guidance now too. 

Clouds drifted by or dispersed entirely while Pippa searched, first by magic (flimsy and unpredictable thanks to her injury), later by hand. She had just worked up the courage to climb one of the moveable ladders to pick a tome from a higher shelf when a voice made her freeze.

 _What in the name of Merlin?_ “Miss Pentangle, whatever are you doing?”

Pippa grimaced and carefully turned around. “Apologies, Miss Cackle.” She attempted a smile but couldn’t be certain she succeeded. Most of her focus was resting on keeping her balance. “I did not mean to make use of your splendid library uninvited. But…the truth is…” She swallowed, letters and words tumbling loosely around in her mouth.

 _If_ she _doesn’t get off that ladder in an instant…Hecate will kill me._

Words slowed, grew heavy. Not Miss Cackle too, was her first thought. Then her mind drifted to Hecate. Hecate who would be angry with her if she found her in this position. Hecate who must have communicated her concern to the headmistress somehow, verbally or non-verbally. Hecate who cared.

“The truth is I was getting desperately bored lying still and thought I could find a nice book to distract me.”

“From the top shelf?” Ada questioned, eyeing her over the top of her glasses.

“Well, you know what they say,” Pippa replied with a chuckle, snatching up any book she could find, before descending back down. “The best things are sometimes the hardest to reach.”

A little winded, she paused to press the book against her chest when Ada’s knowing smile caused her to chuckle anew. Nervously this time. It didn’t take telepathy to know what the headmistress had deduced about her feelings.

“Well, I’m glad you seem to be feeling better, Miss Pentangle. I’m sure you’ll be wanting to return home soon. Though please know that you’re more than welcome to stay.” _Hecate would benefit from the company. Even if she’d never admit it._

Pippa listened, her heart growing heavy. Because Miss Cackle was right. She really oughtn’t to linger. Pentangle’s needed her, Mirabelle needed her. Puck needed to spread his wings- she grimaced at the thought of all that pent up energy. And perhaps a solution could be found there too. No-one ever needed to know.

“Thank you, Miss Cackle. And I’m sorry to have created such a fuss when really I was only stopping by for a brief visit.”

_Modern Witching Workshops._

The other witch sounded amused and Pippa flushed red, utterly mortified. Thanking her again, she hurried out of the library before she could find out just how much more Ada Cackle really knew.

Pippa spent the afternoon in bed in the hospital wing, leafing through the book (“An Advanced Guide to Magical Herbs”) she’d picked up and waiting, in vain, for Hecate to appear out of thin air with the usual wooshing sound. But when the sun basked the room in its orange light and the shadows around her started growing longer, she knew it was time to seek Hecate out herself. She wanted to say goodbye at least and if she lingered another minute, she might postpone her return to Pentangle’s altogether.

Using the experience from her previous excursion, she navigated her way through Cackle’s a little more securely this time until finally she started to slow down in the hallway that led to the potions lab. Another accident should mostly definitely be avoided. Silently she stood outside and listened to Hecate voice, at times stern and reprimanding, at other times surprisingly gentle and patient. She stood until her legs started to ache and the pain in her head thrummed to life. Stood until finally the door opened and a handful of girls came spilling out.

“Oh Miss Pentangle, we do hope you’re feeling better,” some of them called.

Others kept to the back, eyeing her curiously. And Pippa did her best to maintain the bright smile as she reassured them, all the while feeling foolish for the emotions that whispered like butterflies through her stomach. Despite her years, she may as well have been one of the girls. Hopeful, sad, confused. Helplessly in love. No, on second thought, perhaps not. These girls had to be too young still to know of love’s tribulations.  

“Miss Pentangle?” Hecate’s sharp voice emanated from within the potions lab, making all of them immediately stand up straighter.

“Go, go!” Pippa urged the girls, her face pulled into a playful grimace of terror and as they rapidly disbanded, she entered the room. It was a little bit like being summoned by the principal, a little bit worse than that, in fact.  

Hecate kept her back to the door while her fingers moved swiftly and rigidly, emptying cauldrons and clearing up messes. “I was certain I had left precise instructions.”

She wasn’t pleased and Pippa chuckled, twisting her hands above her stomach. “Very precise, Hecate. But I’m feeling much better and must return to Pentangle’s.”

She noticed the change only because she knew what to look for. A stiffening of the spine, a slight tilt of the head. A tension so visible to her, Pippa’s own body ached in sympathy. It was, she thought, as though Hecate had buried away all that was tender. Had become all sharpness instead, all hard angles. Shoulder blades prominent through the fabric of her black turtleneck top, fingers spread wide like talons. Poised for battle, poised for pain.

“And, pray, how will you make the journey? By broomstick when air and weather are unpredictable? Or by long-distance transference to drain yourself further?”

Her anger was dreadful. Energy, cold and stormy, biting at her skin. But braving it, Pippa took a step forward, reaching for Hecate’s hands. She didn’t touch her, not quite, fingertips inches apart. Sparks buzzing between them.

“I’ll fly back, Hecate. I’m sure I can manage.” She spoke confidently, because she meant it.

But Hecate, it seemed, was not convinced. “I hardly think so. Even now your magic is wavering. You will not be able to summon absolute control.”

“I never do,” she reminded her gently. Thought to hear an indignant scoff which made her smile.

If it wouldn’t startle her, she’d wrap her arms around her, press a kiss to her neck, perhaps. Love her. If only she’d let her.

Sadness unfurled itself from within that secret place to which she banished it normally, gnawed at her until she felt sore and smarting.

“I’ll mirror you the minute I land,” she spoke quickly, while she could still trust her voice, then turned and made for the door.

“It’s not safe, Pippa.” _Stay. Please._

Hecate was imploring her, fear fraying her tone. And Pippa froze. Because she’d never heard her talk like that before. And she never wanted to again. Not with such desperation, such panic.

She couldn’t be certain that Hecate had turned at all, but felt as though her fingers were hooking around her own, tethering her in place. Raw tenderness exposed. And how could she deny her? How could she walk away?

Wiping her hands on her dress, she turned, making no attempts at hiding the tears that glistened in her eyes. Let Hecate witness her turmoil, it was only the truth.

“You’re right.” She nodded, managed a watery smile that made her chin tremble. “I’ll stay. A few more days until I’m strong enough to fly can’t hurt.” She doubted she’d ever be strong enough to leave, to return to mirror calls and silence after this. “But…I’ll need a few things. A change of clothing for one, pyjamas, toiletries. Puck.”

Hecate’s eyes, too, were unguarded. Wide, nervous. But determined. Her thoughts directed towards practical matters.

“Perhaps a stack of the paperwork I meant to tackle.”

“I will transfer to Pentangle’s and collect them. Perhaps you could speak to Ada in the meantime? I am certain she’ll be able to find you a room.” _And then rest. Your colour still hasn’t normalised._

This time, Pippa did not hold back but bridged the gap between them to squeeze her hands. Hecate would have no trouble with a long-distance transference spell. On the contrary, it would help her drain her excess energy. But that didn’t mean that Pippa couldn’t be concerned about her in her absence.

“Come and find me the minute you’re back,” she urged. “And be safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- your reviews keep coming and I'm kind of blown away?! Thank you so much!!  
> \- so this chapter is a little bit plot heavy, I know. But it was necessary for the remaining chapters. I hope the end made up  
> for it  
> \- I like to think that Ada had a good idea of Pippa's feelings at least after Spelling Bee  
> \- next chapter will contain more Pippa and Hecate interactions and hopefully some...tingles?


	4. Bold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pippa decides to make a rather bold move.

Chapter 3:

 

Pippa had not left the potions lab two minutes when she was struck by a dreadful thought. A thought so terrifying, in fact, that she conjured up a mirror and swiftly called Mirabelle. Because there were things…things she had kept that she didn’t want Hecate to see. Not because she was ashamed of her feelings but scared that they might somehow prove to be too much, that somehow they’d only serve to make Hecate push her away again. Perhaps she would not even notice them, little trinkets that they were. Notes they’d exchanged, portraits that she’d drawn, a ribbon that Hecate had once worn in her hair. Books she’d received for her birthday, dried up flowers petals.

At any rate, Mirabelle had understood the urgency of the moment, had grasped why Pippa begged her to be present when Hecate arrived. Because Mirabelle had always known even though she’d only said as much years later when Pippa’s grief had unexpectedly resurfaced.

Carefully, she smoothed her dress and calmed her breathing. There was no sense in fretting now. The situation was already out of her hands. Instead, she busied herself finding Ada who, as Hecate had suggested, was more than happy to offer her a free room. And there she sat and waited, surrounded by empty walls in a cold, unfamiliar environment.

It felt like hours, even though it couldn’t have been more than one until Hecate finally materialised before her, a small suitcase at her feet. A little bit off-balance, a little bit less together. Soft tufts of dark hair having escaped the bun at the base of her neck.

Pippa rose instinctively and clasped her hands to steady her. And Hecate froze just the tiniest bit, eyes darting down to their joined hands. She’d always had that look about her, Pippa thought, the look that suggested that she couldn’t quite believe someone might want to touch her without causing her harm. Feeling the magic drift between them, Pippa released her hands, comforted by the knowledge that Hecate was safe and well and not too drained by the long journey.

“Did you find everything alright?” she asked, picking up the suitcase and placing it on her bed.

“I did.” Words pressed out stiffly. “Your deputy was there to assist me.” _Though what she had to do in your personal quarters I cannot understand_.

Pippa giggled. Almost. Because there was something so funny about Hecate’s aghast tone, the way in which her eyebrows rose as though she had just witnessed a most dismal breach of etiquette.

“Oh good, I’m glad you had some help. It really was very kind of you to go, Hecate.”

Clicking open the suitcase, she unearthed pyjamas and clothes and floated them to their respective places.

“It was a necessity.” Another stiff response. But Pippa only smiled to herself and continued unpacking.

“You must remember her, I’m sure. She does remember you.”

She glanced over her shoulder and found the other witch rigid and unmoving, save for her hands which twisted and contorted uncomfortably.

“Of course, my memory is excellent.” _I remember how you used to move together, joined at the hip. No gap between you, not even enough for a sliver of daylight. I remember how she used to make you laugh. How you had that smile that was reserved only for her. I remember that closeness that I-_

Abruptly the stream of thoughts ended, stifled and subdued once more. But what remained behind was the raw emotion. A kind of yearning that stole her breath. Could it be that-? Had Hecate been jealous all this time? Her eyes drifted over her features, teeth clenched, jawline taut. Oh Merlin, how she wanted to believe. Believe so she could soothe another ache in Hecate’s heart she’d never known existed. But how to go about this now without revealing her predicament?

“Mirabelle was good enough to help me after we lost touch.” She grimaced, noticing her mistake right away. She hadn’t meant for it to come out like this. Not accusatory or…or…pity-inducing. She’d wanted it to be a fact, nothing else than innocent, just a piece of information that carried no emotional weight. “But she could never hope to be you. Hecate?”

She wasn’t certain if she could hear her still, because her eyes were blank and her posture ever so unyielding. Everything braced to contain the emotion that had to roar angrily within her.

Helplessly, Pippa turned back to her suitcase, hoping that perhaps with time Hecate would become approachable again. Perhaps time would allow her to hear what she had said. Though 30 years of experience did not exactly point in her favour.

“You…you brought my chess set?”

The question came tumbling out on its own. Because Hecate had been practical to a fault in the items she had selected. And this didn’t fit the pattern. No, there was no practical value to it.

“Yes, my eyes were drawn to it.” _I couldn’t believe you kept it._ “And Mirabelle suggested I’d take it along. That you’d be bored out of your mind and could use the distraction.”

“She has a point,” Pippa conceded with a smile, running her fingertips lovingly over the wood; the wood that had Hecate’s name engraved in it. “I really go stir-crazy when cooped up too long. But not in your company, I could never be bored in your company.”

It was impossible to tell whether any of her words connected, because a sudden realisation appeared to jolt through Hecate, drawing her attention elsewhere. A second later, her expression shifted into one of dismay and disgruntlement.Her fingers whipped through the air and next to her a birdcage with a noisily hooting Puck manifested.

“Oh sweet darling!” Pippa gasped in delight. “How could I have forgotten you?” The little owl hopped closer to the bars, never sitting still, always demanding her focus. “Now you mustn’t make such a fuss. I know for a fact that you were let out to spread your wings.”

Gingerly, she opened the cage and watched him soar, high up to the ceiling where he whipped around in circles. It was thanks to his wild behaviour that she noticed Hecate slinking away. She already had one hand on the doorknob when Pippa carefully caught her other arm.

“Why don’t you stay for a game? I can let Puck fly outside, so he can explore the grounds and we can have some peace.”

Desperation made her curl her fingers more tightly around her until she felt the warmth that emanated from just beneath the sleeve. Because this felt an awful lot like saying goodbye. Like Hecate stepping out of her life again for reasons that were less than sound. And Pippa wasn’t prepared to let her do that, not because she couldn’t accept that Pippa could possibly feel this warmly towards her.

“You ought to rest.”

The answer was given curtly and without meeting her eyes. Hecate’s back served as a barrier between them. Shielding her from suffering, blocking her from finding the truth.

“And so I shall. But there’s no harm in a little game. Please, Hecate, stay with me?”

Slowly, Hecate began to thaw. Softening before her, shoulders relaxing. It wasn’t a victory, exactly, but it was a beginning.

Pippa slid her hand down her arm carefully until she found her hand that had tended to her the previous night with such gentle care. She guided her to her bed while clearing away the suitcase and smiled amused when Hecate sank down stiffly, arranging her dress with pinched fingers. A dress whose tight fight Pippa couldn’t even dare to think about if she wanted to maintain any illusion of restraint. How lucky she was that Hecate couldn’t read _her_ thoughts. Better to quickly focus on letting Puck escape into the night.

“How is your head feeling now?” Hecate asked a moment later, as they were both setting up their figures on either side of the set.

And Pippa withdrew her eyes with difficulty from those long fingers, those black painted nails. Merlin, how was her head feeling indeed? Dizzy? Mushy? Unfocused?

“Fine. Better, I mean. It’s sore if I move my neck too much or…if I’m tired. But it’s much better.”

Hecate nodded in understanding, hazel eyes skimming over her face before she automatically moved her pawn to start the game. “Good. We must monitor your recovery, of course. And especially those cheeks. Your skin looks terribly aggravated.”

Pippa’s lips twisted into a smile that was part gentle, part pained. She took her time responding, focusing instead on her own move. “Well, you know it’s always needed special care. Creams and treatments…”

“And covering up with make-up.”

Pippa arched her eyebrow at that, a playful challenge. “Partially, Hiccup, you know there’s more to it than that.”

Mildly embarrassed, Hecate lowered her eyes to the board. Another pawn was lifted up between index and middle finger, then placed with some consideration. “I apologise. You’re right. I just still believe that it’s unnecessary.” _You’re beautiful without._

Pippa’s head jerked up so swiftly that Hecate’s forehead drew into a frown. Her face was burning up, her heart bashing against her chest, leaping up to her throat. Oh treacherous heart, how eager it was to speak the truth!

Trembling fingers made the next move and Hecate’s frown deepened. “That was careless of you, Pipsqueak. Are you sure you are quite alright?”

She’d forgotten how difficult it was concealing the truth from Hecate, hiding her feelings, locking them away. Not with as much force as the other but with the quiet belief that it would at least keep their friendship alive.

“Yes, please don’t worry. I was just thinking back to that night when I first started experimenting with lipstick and mascara. You looked so…” Here she paused, cocking her head to one side to carefully watch Hecate. “…unhappy…”

Emotions danced over Hecate’s face, tugging at it here and there, not one of them winning the upper hand.

_Everybody was staring at you already. And with even more attention it would only have been a matter of time before you stared back, forgetting to see me._

Pippa’s heart stopped its frantic beat, slowed instead to an agonising pace. Because this was cruel and most unkind, squeezing out Hecate’s innermost thoughts only because she was so desperate for answers.

“I’ve always enjoyed the alchemy of colours. The magic contained in art. An extension of oneself. And, Hecate,” she risked a timid glance at her, “I’d hoped that you’d come to find me a little bit pretty.”

The confession was making her breathless, dizzy even. In fact, she was grateful that it was Hecate’s turn because she might have knocked over the entire chess set in this state.

“Pr…pretty?” Her eyebrows had shot up so high they threatened to disappear into her hairline.

And Pippa smiled despite her nervousness, smiled because her mother had once taught her that hardships could be made bearable like that, that mountains could be moved with determination and positivity. Honesty and kindness more powerful than any other form of magic.

“Yes,” she nodded now. “I admit it sounds horribly conceited. But I wanted you to look at me and…well, I suppose, I…” Another ragged breath, the game long forgotten. “I wanted you to see me as the woman I was becoming. Who created her own magic, who expressed herself sometimes clumsily, sometimes convincingly. I never cared about any of these silly witches, Hecate, I only wanted _you_ to see me.”

Damned, if she didn’t make a mess of this now. Anxiously, Pippa’s hand inched across the bed to capture hers, fingers extending, brushing shyly against Hecate’s. Magic evoked in the space between, the space of doubt and unspoken truths that was shrinking by the minute, word by word.

“I wanted you to see me as I have always seen you. Beautiful, tender, complex. Always surprising. I wanted to be like you.”

She had stunned her into silence, taken her aback so that she could not even fathom to form one coherent thought. Her mind was blank and Pippa was grateful. Grateful for having to wait until Hecate found the courage to tell her, grateful for not having to intrude on her most intimate thoughts.

Magic jolted from her fingers to Pippa’s like a current of electricity. Thrumming, struggling, wanting.

“Think about it, take your time.” Her voice had softened and her heart grown lighter. “I won’t push you, I promise. But if you’ll permit me, if it’s not too late, Hecate, I’d like to court you properly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- hi so Pippa developed a mind of her own in this one and ran away with me. I guess we'll be courting Hecate now?!  
> \- your reviews keep on going and it's so awesome! Thank you!! <3  
> \- 2-3 chapters left to this  
> \- I blame always-la-belle-epoque for the make-up mention in this. We've been discussing headcanons and I'll write another  
>  fic about the meaning of make-up for each of them and their identity and so on.


	5. Tender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They start slowly, by going for a walk.

Chapter 4:

  
  
Pippa thought that she had no-one but herself to blame when she spent the following day waiting for Hecate’s answer. She should have known that despite the promising glimpses into her mind, Hecate would exercise caution, would have to carefully consider the consequences of each response before committing to one of them. She only hoped fear would not cloud her mind and deter her from being brave.

So Pippa spent the day in bed, or tending to herself, or fixing her hair. Sometimes she walked to the library to continue her search, always listening out for unwanted intruders. There was little the books had to offer but warnings and reprimands and useless suggestions that some magic took its time to ebb away. Or riddles. Riddles which Hecate would have loved but Pippa detested, because they offered no help, just more fodder for her brain to turn over and over on itself.

_To be of one mind is a blessing and a curse hard to be alleviated._

_For to find back to yourself, you must first embrace that which is shared._

All in all, there was very little satisfying enough to distract her from this endless process of waiting. For all her bubbly optimism this was something Pippa struggled with desperately. Waiting. Patience. The uncertainty of it all. She didn’t know why it ate away at her like that, chewing and gnawing until the foundation of her confidence started to wobble. Perhaps because Hecate had left her once before, had vanished without explanation, had left her feeling wrong and helpless…and wanting. The doubt harked back thirty yes. Had nestled itself into her heart then. Stubbornly. A silent lodger that reared its head at the worst possible moments. Every mirror call could be their last. Every prolonged silence spelled yet another end. Hecate always just slipping through her fingers.

How terribly easy it had been to grow accustomed to her presence in her life. To come to expect to see her face before going to sleep. Never mind the difficulty of it all. The one-sided conversations. The struggles. One small glimpse of her enough to sustain her.

There was a darkness inside Pippa too that may have shocked some, because it was so well-hidden behind serene smiles and affirming words. But Pippa knew it was there, carefully managed, and handled with patience. That’s why she had no-one but herself to blame for her current predicament. After all, it was she who had set herself up for this indefinite period of waiting.

Sitting and anticipating and hoping. Her palms clammy, her heart thundering in her chest. Puck’s wild antics a welcome distraction. Until the knock resounded all around her. Shaking her awake, startling her into action, hands flying back to adjust her ponytail.

“Come in!” she called, her voice bright but just as squeaky.

She realised it was Hecate when the door did not instantly open, when anticipation continued to hang suspended in the air. Pippa pivoted further on the bed, wanting to look welcoming and warm, though she probably ended up looking expectant instead.

And then finally Hecate appeared, one step at a time. Awkward and clumsy, as if unaccustomed to so much movement. Pippa watched her wiping her hands on her dress, fingers painfully stiff. She could feel the nervous energy that had whipped itself into a frenzy around her, crackling, refusing to submit to her iron-will.

“After careful consideration,” Hecate began, her voice possessed by that breathless quality solely reserved for emotional turmoil, “I have decided to accept your proposal. You may commence courtship.”

Pippa nearly chuckled when her face contorted into a grimace of embarrassment. Wanted to laugh because her heart felt so terribly light, it must have been floating in her chest.

“Excellent!” she announced instead, smiling gently while rising to her feet.

“And how exactly will this work?”

Pippa paused, midway to collecting her cloak. She regarded Hecate carefully, reined in her excitement because it was paramount that she focus. Because Hecate was scared. She could see it now in her eyes that shone unguarded, in her lips that twitched nervously and in the way she swallowed, her chin trembling all the while. As she had been on their first broomstick ride, Hecate was afraid of falling and Pippa, who’d already done so a long time ago and survived with bumps and bruises, wanted to be there to hold her. One step at a time, she thought and collected her cloak.

“It’s still me, Hecate,” she said gently, reaching out to touch her arm. “And courtship is just a word. We won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. I would just like to be with you.”

“So?”

One word that trembled between them and Pippa took heart. “So how about we go for a little walk? I’ve been inside too long.”

“A walk,” Hecate repeated slowly as if processing the information, assessing it for flaws or hidden agendas.

“Nothing more. It’s a beautiful day.” Pippa waited for the slight nod of the head, then used her magic to conjure up Hecate’s cloak. “I know you’d much prefer transferring, but we could search for herbs along the way, fill up your classroom supplies.”

Gingerly, she wrapped the garment around her, fingers brushing over her shoulders as they went. She could feel the tension underneath; anticipation, apprehension. A heady mixture of wanting and prohibiting.

_2 cups of water, 1 heaping teaspoon blue lotus, 1 heaping teaspoon hibiscus, 1/2 teaspoon lavender, honey…_

Pippa’s lips quirked up in amusement. Was Hecate reciting the ingredients for a meditation potion in her head?

Her hands lingered on her shoulders, then slowly drifted down her arms. “Whenever you’re ready, why don’t you transfer us out of here?”

This gave her some agency back, some confidence and with another small nod they both vanished and re-appeared a moment later in the middle of the woods. Pippa dizzy, swaying on her feet, the after-effects of the potions incident stronger than she had anticipated. Hecate had been right, she would not have been fit to fly.

 _Perhaps this was a bad idea._ “Careful, Pippa, how do you feel?”

“Woozy,” she admitted, holding on to the other. “But just give me a minute and I’ll be fine. Please, I really do need the air.” Her lids fluttered shut as she sought to collect herself, all the while feeling Hecate’s eyes on her face. If she didn’t convince her soon, she’d be taking them back and the courtship would be over before it had even begun. “There, the ground feels a little steadier now. I think we can walk.”

For a minute she thought Hecate might decline, but then she released her and slowly headed off towards a pool of flowers that stood grouped together under a tree. The air was mild around them, peaceful. No intrusive sounds, just the gentle whispering of leaves as the wind blew through them.

_Bluebells seeking shelter._

Pippa smiled, could feel Hecate’s energy unfurl around her, calming itself to a gentle hum. And following suit, she knelt down by the tree and gently disconnected one of the little flowers from their roots.

“Here, the blue will go splendidly with your cloak.” Stabilising herself against the bark, she carefully reached up to fasten the bluebell against the silky dark fabric of the garment, smiling when Hecate flushed. “It complements your eyes, too.”

Her hands were drawn higher by themselves, fingertips skimming over cheekbones now fetchingly kissed by a faint shade of red. Her own thoughts becoming a muddled mess alongside Hecate’s. There was little she noticed around them, little else she saw except for Hecate’s widened hazel eyes, her parted lips that released puff after puff of warm breath. Lipstick lightly smudged in places. Pulse thrumming in her throat.

It was a kind of rush, Pippa thought, a kind of ecstasy that only Hecate could create. Even after all this time.

“You’re very beautiful, you know?”

A flutter of lashes as Hecate dissolved before her, sought, in vain, to contain that glowing smile that seemed to reverberate from deep within her. Pippa would have liked to kiss her then and there, but instinctively felt that perhaps it was a step too far yet. So she settled for finding her hand, intertwining their fingers, holding her. Beautiful too, that small moment.

Without further words they both slipped into motion, strolling through the forest while the sun broke through the trees and caressed their heads. Warm and golden. As safe of a haven as it had always been for them.

Along the way they paused occasionally so that Hecate could collect whatever ingredients might be useful, Pippa marvelling at the gentle care which she bestowed upon every single plant.

“Are you happy?”

Hecate’s back tensed as she straightened herself, turning around to face Pippa. “What an odd question.”

“Is it?” she asked in return, tilting her head.

Hecate’s slender fingers were covered in earth and dirt, her palms still cradling the roots she had recently dug up. How she loved her, this wild contradiction of hard and soft, of sharp and tender, neat and messy.

“Well, it’s very…potent.” With a twist of her hand she banished the roots into a vial which disappeared inside her cloak and another twist cleaned away any last specks of dirt.

“You don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable. It’s just hard to read you at times, Hiccup, so I thought I’d try asking directly.”

Her gaze flickered towards the ground before it met her own and with agonising trepidation, Hecate extended her hand once more. “You know more about me, know me better than most of the people I associate with on a daily basis.”

Pippa eagerly took her hand and propelled them into motion once more. “Even thirty years later?”

“Even then.”

She turned and smiled at her, one of those rare smiles that softened her features and made her eyes glisten. One of those rare smiles Pippa had carefully catalogued in her memory for days when sadness or doubt threatened to win the upper hand.

Together, they walked another few paces before Hecate decided to say more. “I’m not certain I know how to be happy, Pippa. There’s no code or manual for it.”

Her lips twitched almost playfully, very nearly courageously. And Pippa chuckled because she had always loved Hecate’s sense of humour, knew how much it must have taken for her to feel able to poke fun at herself. Just a little bit. A tiny opening, a great show of faith. Pippa recognised that privilege.

Then Hecate’s hand clasped hers tighter, tethering their fingers together. “Are _you_ happy?”

“Me?” she laughed, amused and terrified and caught off-guard all at once. “Well, you know me. I’m always positive and in good spirits.”

 _I do know you. That’s why I’m concerned at times._ “That isn’t the same as being happy, Pip.”

Her thoughts as well as her words wrung another feeble chuckle from her throat that stammered and stalled and finally cracked altogether. She could see now what Hecate had meant. It was a very potent question, indeed. Complex. Difficult. Almost unbearable.

“I do the best I can to be happy. And sometimes pretending to be something…confident or positive…helps me actually be those things. Sometimes kindness breeds kindness in return, and…I…don’t need much to feel content.”

“It took me a while to understand that, you know?” Hecate hummed pensively, her index finger brushing soothingly against her own. “To see that you weren’t naturally brimming over with joy. That not everything in your life was as rose-tinted as it first appeared. I was…” she paused, her expression thoughtful as her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, “envious, I think, of the ease with which you seemed to navigate life. Always so popular, spreading kindness and laughter.”

It felt weird, Pippa thought, casting her eyes down to the leafy ground where plants whispered and branches cracked under her feet. It felt weird being under such tender scrutiny. Held, loved, understood.

“But it takes a lot out of you. And I…” Another deep breath, another frown. Considerable thought given to that which was yet to come. “I want to make certain that if this…courtship…is successful, you are not overlooked. I could not bear it were you to tuck yourself away for my benefit.”

Pippa stopped walking then, brought Hecate to a halt too and turned her so that they were facing each other. Tears were clinging to her lashes, clouding her vision just as the onslaught of emotion was clouding her brain. Her chest aching with affection and longing. No words forthcoming.

“I am not…easy…Pippa.” Hecate chuckled, tiredly. “And I always wanted to shield you from that. Because you deserve…” She stopped, her thoughts staggering to a standstill.

So Pippa reached up and cupped her face, cradled it even between her warm palms. “You are just right, Hecate.”

And she leaned in and fluttered a nervous kiss against her forehead, had to stand a little bit on her tiptoes to reach her.

“As are you, Pippa. More so, in fact.”

“Hush now, darling, this is not a competition,” she chuckled, reluctantly breaking the contact.

And Hecate’s face was soft and flushed and glowing. Slowly, they began walking again, a little closer, their shoulders brushing against each other from time to time.

“Life is really just a series of moments, isn’t it, Hiccup?” Pippa asked after a while, smiled when Hecate’s curious eyes danced over her face.

“I suppose it is.”

“Well then, to answer your question, in this moment, I am utterly, brilliantly happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- your reviews guyyyys...thank you!! Oh, AND your kudos!Thank you so much!  
> \- tried to examine Pippa a little closer in this one.  
> \- Pippa canonically hates it when Hecate transfers her somewhere, so by giving her permission she hopes to hand some  
> control back over to Hecate.  
> \- reciting potions ingredients might be useful when control is slipping through your fingers?  
> \- as it stands, next chapter will be the last - will see how it develops as I write it! :)


	6. Promising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intimacy grows slowly.

Chapter 5:

 

The days passed by and Pippa remained at Cackle’s, settling effortlessly into her new routine. When Hecate was occupied teaching the summer classes, she would busy herself making preparations for Pentangle’s own curriculum or spend hours walking through the extensive grounds of the castle, relishing the lush green of nature that stood in full bloom around her. At other times, she’d completely lose track of anything she was doing, her mind drifting off to private suppers, long-lasting chess games and flowers waiting for her on her nightstand come morning. Amaryllises, white lilies, carnations. Gerberas, gladiolas, and blue irises. Always one at a time, never too much. A secret message that required no words as long as one understood the code.

Smiling to herself – sloppily, broadly, brilliantly!- Pippa contemplated, not for the first time, who was courting who. It was truly a shame that she would have to return to her own school soon, a pity that a week spent with Hecate could dissolve so swiftly. Her stomach churned at the thought of mirror calls that felt more like a barrier now or a source for misunderstandings. Yearned for actual nearness that was palpable and moving. Hecate’s energy that sometimes roared around her, sometimes rumbled pleasantly and low like a purr. Her rigid fingers that inched with newfound courage across the table to rest against her own. Hecate’s smile, shyly, demurely contained until a look, a gesture, a touch would chip away the last shreds of control and bring beautiful laughter tumbling out.

Oh, Pippa was quite drunk on her. Doubted she could ever have enough.

A sudden knock at the door drew her out of her reverie – silly grin still lingering on her face – and made her cast a glance about the room. Puck had settled comfortably in a corner above the wardrobe, his orange eyes wide and curious, a speck of light in what was otherwise darkness.

“Yes?” Pippa called.

She couldn’t think who it might be other than Hecate, but a visit at this time of night was still highly unusual.

“It’s me. I do apologise, it is rather late.”

She nearly chuckled at Hecate’s sense of propriety, at the succinct enunciation of each word despite her voice being muffled away behind the door. Then she sat up straighter in bed and nervously arranged her pyjamas, the silk stubbornly wrinkling anyhow.

“It’s alright, come in!”

Her tone was light but her heart was fluttering wildly against her ribcage, as uninhibited as her little owl so often was when free of constraints, longing to soar higher and higher.

A moment later Hecate manifested in the room, having knocked out of mere politeness. She looked magnificent in the dark, Pippa thought, even better in moonlight if only she were to take…one step…two. Yes. Closer. Illuminated by Selene’s silver rays. Hair loose and untangled, flowing down her shoulders. A waterfall of dark curls. Her face devoid of rouge and lipstick, mascara and eyeliner. Just Hecate. Bare. Almost. The robe she wore – the one that glistened black like dragon scales – still hiding most of her skin from sight.

“Your bandage must be removed,” she began to explain, “and your head examined for further injuries.”

“Tonight?” Pippa questioned with a light chuckle, extending her hand, coaxing her to bridge the final distance between them.

And Hecate obliged, coming to sit down on her bed, albeit stiffly. "Well, today. It has been a week since the incident. I forgot earlier.”

Her chest was rising and falling quickly under her robe. Was she afraid? Nervous? Pippa could only speculate now that her thoughts had become so scarce. Not her thoughts, she corrected herself, her ability to hear her thoughts. It had lessened and grown irregular, sometimes exposing her to snippets of sentences or half-formed questions.

“Then, of course, you must examine me,” she answered, shifting closer until their knees bumped against each other.

Hecate stiffened, perhaps in embarrassment, then relaxed. Careful fingers danced around her skull and freed her hair from its ponytail. Pippa felt the weight of it against her shoulders and tipped her head back briefly to shake it out before leaning back in to Hecate’s touch.

“Has the pain been manageable?”

She liked how confident she sounded when tending to her. Another side entirely to the stern teacher or the timid, anxious girl she’d met at the witching academy. The woman she had always known existed, capable and competent and secure within herself.

“It’s been much improved, Hiccup. In fact, I can’t remember the last time it really hurt me.”

Cool fingers lifted up the bandage and removed it, alleviating further pressure and leaving her feeling strangely small and naked. Unaccustomed to the sensation, her eyes flew open and found Hecate watching her. Softly, tenderly, all tension eased from her features, bringing out the laughter lines around eyes and mouth.

“Good,” she remarked, and miraculously did not shy away now that she had been caught. “And how has your face been feeling?”

“Much better too. Less hot and swollen. I think it is finally recovering.”

Pippa dared to move a tiny bit closer, knees gnashing against Hecate’s again before they managed to adjust themselves.

“May I see for myself?” Hecate asked, fingers halfway extended already, and Pippa nodded and bowed her head, strands of blonde hair whispering over Hecate’s face as she went.

She smiled when she heard the other’s intake of breath and made no effort to hide it from her. Instead she thought how nice Hecate smelled, of soap and herbs and cream, how tantalisingly close her soft skin was. And then she thought of nothing at all, because Hecate’s fingers were grazing her cheek. Gently prodding, sometimes nearly caressing her. A satisfied hum the only comment she offered in regards to her findings.

Pippa hadn’t planned to do it, but allowed it to happen in the spur of the moment. Hecate’s fingers were following a downward path anyhow, assessing still, no doubt. So why not capture her wrists? A bit blindly. A bit clumsily. Without any force, fleetingly, just long enough to feel her pulse thrum to life as she guided her fingers lower still. Another sharp inhalation. A chorus of thoughts.

_Focus!Focus!Focus!_

Then Pippa allowed her lips to capture her fingertips, lightly, very lightly and thought she might very well erupt into flames a moment later when Hecate moaned. Gasped. Sighed. She couldn’t be certain which one was more applicable. She couldn’t say which one was more desirable. All that mattered was that Hecate hadn’t been able to restrain herself.

“Sensitive,” she mumbled now, her tone a shade darker, her voice a little hoarser.

It was meant as an apology, surely, but it sounded like an encouragement. So Pippa nipped at them again, less playfully this time, slower, with a sense of purpose. She felt her lips envelop the pads of her fingers, the warmth that grew between them. She could feel Hecate’s magic crackle wildly against her, jolt after jolt in a way that made something below her stomach tighten and burn. Forgot to breathe for a second or two.

One last act she entrusted herself with. Just one, before _she_ would lose all control and she couldn’t, because she needed to ensure that Hecate was still alright. Her tongue darted out to tease her fingertips, the merest of contacts, gone as swiftly as it had come. A promise of more if Hecate so wished. A strangled whimper blossomed in response and Pippa shivered. Had to remind herself again to stop, because something inside her was craving more. More of those sounds, more of that magic, more of…Hecate. Hecate, who, too was trembling when she opened her eyes. Flushed and wide-eyed, her lips slightly parted. A picture of beauty and abandon.

“Are you happy with my recovery?” Pippa asked, struggling to walk the tightrope of words. Evenness of tone an impossibility.

Hecate breathed in and out, sought to compose herself. Couldn’t. “Quite.” Not curt or guarded but shaken. _You must leave soon._

Sadness now in that one thought and Pippa frowned. “Stay with me…tonight?” she pleaded. “I’ll return to Pentangle’s in the morning.”

She had no excuse to linger.

“Here?” Hecate squeaked and Pippa grasped her hands again. Steadied her.

“Yes, here in the moonlight, in my bed. Just like this. I promised you there’d be no expectations, Hiccup.”

Her shoulders relaxed as she inched ever so slightly closer. “I’d like that.” A whisper that left a tentative smile in its wake.

Together, they navigated the length and width of her single bed, chuckling, laughing when their bodies bumped against each other. Like they had done as teenagers when first they had lain like that. Limbs entangled, Pippa’s face pressed against Hecate’s chest. Still fitting somehow. Undisturbed by the silence that followed.

“Pippa?” Fingers inched across her body, settled on her hips.

“Mmh?”

“What happens now? When you return.”

“Well, that depends, Hecate. Was my courtship successful?”

She glanced up at her to offer a playful smile but found herself arrested by the moonlight playing on her face instead, highlighting every line and every wrinkle. Traces of old, familiar and welcoming, and new additions that made her wish to discover their origin. Some signs of hardship, others reminders of joyful times.

Hecate’s forehead creased into a frown as she gazed down upon her. “I have decided I do not care much for the word courtship. It implies an imbalance of efforts.”

Pippa smiled in acknowledgement and nodded, permitted her own arm to snake around her waist and settle on her back where she proceeded to trace lazy patterns up and down, the fabric of her robe cool against her fingers.

“What I want is you, Pippa. To spend more time with you like this.”

“I’d like that very much.”

“Not just mirror calls. But…perhaps…weekly visits? Would that be agreeable?”

Pippa chuckled and pushed herself up higher on the bed while clinging to the other’s body. “More than agreeable,” she assured her. “Now, I was wondering if I could kiss you.”

Eyes growing wide again, Hecate became rigid, even more so when she realised that she was nodding desperately all the while. And so Pippa took her time, hands trailing slowly up her side, cupping one cheek. Long enough to change her mind. Long enough to deny her still. She could feel her heart frantically beating in her throat, caught her eyes surreptitiously drifting to her lips until finally mouth met mouth.

Hecate was all warmth and longing beneath her, mewling in sated agreement then demanding more, ignoring the rhythm of give and take they’d established. Her fingers furled around her hip with such firmness that she could feel her nails digging into her skin even through the top of her pyjamas. Holding her, needing her to be there. Solid and reassuring. Everything Pippa had ever wanted to be.

When they broke away it was for air alone and Hecate’s hazel eyes were gazing at her with such heated intensity that Pippa felt naked and exposed, yet pleasurably so. To be regarded with such a storm of emotions was affecting more within her than many lovers had done with touches in the past. It was raw and unfiltered and overwhelming, leaving her shaken and fulfilled at once.

There’d be more, of course, much more in the future. To explore and discover, to tease and coax out. But there was no rush now. Not when their lips met again, lazily, pace slowing down. Not when Hecate’s low humming moans were there to be taken in, stored away for safe-keeping. Not when she felt so comfortably fuzzy inside, snug and warm and drowsy.

“Not reciting potion ingredients this time, are you?” Pippa chuckled after a good long while, sinking lower until she was hidden away against Hecate’s body again. Right there in the spot of warmth where her heart beat reassuringly. Her lids heavy, a yawn narrowly suppressed.

“Potions ingredients?”

The startled response still registered if also barely as her eyes drifted shut. Something had slipped out that shouldn’t have, she thought; but whatever it was, it could certainly be rectified in the morning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- if you have any complaints about that ending, please feel free to message always-la-belle-epoque lol She made me do it!  
> (she didn't. But it was the best solution for my predicament, so...thank you?)  
> They were fine in the morning, I promise! :)  
> \- the effect of the "potion" is wearing off because, as the riddle suggested, they are becoming more and more of one mind  
> by talking, rather than by thinking secret things  
> \- here are the flowers:  
> Amaryllis - splendid beauty, worth beyond beauty  
> White lilies - purity, innocence  
> Gerberas - cheerfulness  
> Gladiolas - faithfulness, honour  
> Blue Irises - faith, hope  
> Carnations - of course pride - worn by Oscar Wilde (green carnations) and sometimes used as symbol/hint of queerness to other queer people in Victorian times (queer is not meant offensively, obviously)

**Author's Note:**

> \- are you sick of me posting stuff yet? haha This will be multi-chap as it's my preferred medium. Maybe between 3-5   
>  chapters? I'll have to see.  
> \- in mythology, Puck is a nature sprite of fairy who can be helpful or mischievous   
> \- "trying out different broomsticks" isn't meant to be an innuendo, but alludes to sentences like "it's just a phase" or "you   
>  gotta try yourself out" that many of us get to hear after coming out  
> \- I'd like to think that Ada and Pippa have, in fact, a friendly and warm relationship   
> \- I think that's everything, but I'm afraid I forgot something, as in "Coming Undone" I forgot to add in the final chapter   
>  note that my Broomhead idea came from Hecate's fierce "I cannot abide eavesdroppers". Anyway, thoughts are much   
>  needed, thank you! :)


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